


And I Just Can't Look

by FallenAngelWorks



Series: Mr. Brightside [5]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, I don't know where im goign anymore but the song lyrics do apparently, Izaya had a change of heart, M/M, No Condoms, Part 5, Public Sex, Rim job, Rimming, if i missed somethign let me know, ive planned out like 29 parts total now, no beta we die like men, we jumpign around a bit, what am i doign with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:35:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21864583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenAngelWorks/pseuds/FallenAngelWorks
Summary: Izaya thought he knew what he wanted. Turns out when he's presented with the opportunity, he just can't follow through. That's never happened before.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Series: Mr. Brightside [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569430
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	And I Just Can't Look

It had been three weeks since Izaya had last ran into Atsu. He obsessed over him frequently, and was met with disappointment every time he went back to the club. He hadn’t spotted him, or even felt his presence. It was disheartening to say the least, but Izaya was persistent, he’d continue to go back in the hopes of catching him again— _he had promised a next time in not so many words._ For now, he just had to bide his time. Atsu hadn’t tugged on his hair like he had the last time, and that spike of pain had been _delicious._ Shizuo had done it a few times, and while Izaya had never had particularly _short_ hair, it had never really been long enough for Shizuo to get a decent grip on it. Izaya decide to try leaving his hair down a few times, had been hit on by a few assholes as persistent as he himself was.

“They aren’t here tonight, the blond or the brunet. Which one were you hoping to find?” Izaya had been standing at the bar nursing a drink, hoping there was enough light on him for Atsu to catch sight of him if he was here, when one of the tenders leant over the bar top to speak. Izaya caught eyes with him and for a moment couldn’t comprehend the question.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen you in here pretty frequently, scouring the playing field for someone. A few weeks back you partied pretty hard with a blond, and a few nights later a brunet with a pretty similar build, figured you might be lookin’ for one of them. Good lookin’ guys, _I can’t blame ya.”_ Izaya felt his confusion deepen, and he sipped back the rest of his drink, raising his glass to ask the tender to fill it while he tried to puzzle this out. He had said Izaya partied with a _blond._ Atsu wasn’t blond, he was brunet, Izaya wondered if maybe he was mistaken, and he said as much when his glass was placed back in his reach, now full. The tender shook his head, a wry smile on his face.

“No, no, _no—_ I remember. The guy you disappeared into the bathroom with was _blond,_ had to be, the light was catching his hair like crazy, and it only does that with blonds. If you mean the _brunet_ that was getting grabby with you _before_ the blond, I haven’t seen him since then. I think your savior was a bit too scary for him. I would have stepped in myself when I saw you getting uncomfortable, kind of my thing here, but the blond swooped in and the two of you carried on like you knew each other. Certainly _seemed_ that way when you slipped away together at least.” Izaya had to close his eyes and think back three weeks to the bathroom stall. _He had caught a flash of gold._ He shook his head immediately, his entire body _rejecting_ the idea. It couldn’t have _actually_ been Shizuo, and he _couldn’t_ have been blond, Atsu was brunet, Izaya had slipped up behind a brunet the second time, and he had responded the right way for him to validate being the man from the stall. Izaya felt a little shell shocked, sipped at his drink, and then turned back to the bar to wait for the tender to come back—he had slipped down the bar to fill a drink request. He came back a moment later, that wry smile on his face.

“You’re _sure_ the first one was blond? The brunet I met up with the second night—he was the same person.”

“Are _you_ sure it was the same guy?”

 _“Positive._ He used the right name, only he would have known it, and he was wearing the ring he wore before.” The bartender scratched at the back of his neck for a moment and closed his eyes. His attention was called away and he excused himself to go fill another drink order, and came back looking thoughtful.

“You know, now that you mention it, the brunet you were with the second time wasn’t just _sort of_ the same build as the blond, he _was_ the same build. Had the height, the shoulders, right taper to his waist. Maybe he dyed his hair for you, did you say you preferred brunets?” Izaya felt his heart stutter in his chest as he shook his head. _He hadn’t wanted Izaya to see him either._ The more he thought about it, the more he analyzed the quality of the touch that was _still_ humming through his body—he realized it wasn’t just the _right_ touch it was **_the_** touch. It had been Shizuo—both times it had been Shizuo if the bartender wasn’t blowing smoke up his ass. _That’s why it had felt so good._ After another moment’s hesitation, Izaya asked if he had seen _either_ the blond or the brunet since then. When he shook his head, Izaya pulled his wallet out to pay for his drinks. The tender walked away with his cash and a decent tip, saying he’d keep an eye out for both of them and let Izaya know when he saw him next.

Izaya walked home feeling strange. Shizuo had to have known it was _him._ It’s not like Shizuo couldn’t see Izaya. Admittedly, Izaya had _wanted_ it to be Shizuo fucking him in that stall, jerking him to completion on that dance floor, _and_ swallowing his cock in that dark corner. He had _wished_ it had been Shizuo, but now that he was almost positive that it _was_ Shizuo— _he was fucking livid._ Why hadn’t he said something? Why hadn’t he just told Izaya it was _him?_ Why the secrecy? Izaya puzzled it out as he showered, trying to come up with a suitable answer. His thoughts were interrupted as he finished changing when there was a prim knock at his door that he recognized as Namie’s particular tap. He moved towards the door to admit her entrance, and her every stony face— _looked pleased._

“What brings you by so late Namie?”

“I wanted to come by and say thank you. The date you arranged with Shiki— _it was pleasant.”_ Namie had a thoughtful look on her face, as well as a bit of conflict. Izaya motioned her inside and closed the door, breezing past her as she took her shoes off and tucked them away before following him into the living room. She sat on the couch next to Izaya, and he crossed his legs, a ripple of amusement hitting him.

“Glad to hear it. Normally I’d ask something along the lines of— _What makes you believe I want to know about it?_ —but for the moment I’m feeling _sentimental._ Tell me how it went, I’m in need of some chatter right now.” Namie’s face twisted into something resembling anger for a moment, and then she let out a breath.

“Well, to answer your more _honest_ question, I think you’d be interested in this because I imagine a relationship between the two of us is good for business for you. If _I’m_ going to be honest—I don’t really have anyone to talk about this sort of thing _to.”_ Izaya shrugged his shoulders, replying that it didn’t bother him either way, and that Namie was welcome to gossip with him. _It was his job after all._ Izaya’s worries were pulled away as he listened to Namie talk— _she was gushing like a teenage girl would, like Izaya used to about Shizuo, like he’d **still** like to—_when he received a notification on his phone. He asked if Namie could hold on a second, and she nodded her head, asking if it was alright for her to make tea. Izaya had nodded his consent, saying he’d like a white tea so late in the evening. Namie excused herself towards the kitchen as Izaya checked his phone and nearly choked. _There was a message. From Atsushi._ Izaya stared at the notification bar, telling him that Shizuo had indeed sent him a message, and both anger and joy of equal amounts flared in Izaya’s chest. Namie returned while he was still staring at the screen and she prodded him with a _What is it?_

“A message—from someone I never thought I’d get a message from again.”

“A client? Isn’t that good news?”

 _“No. From Shizuo.”_ Namie was privy to his drama, and while she hadn’t been _encouraging_ towards Izaya’s new clothes and attitude, she had certainly seemed less pushy since Izaya started going out and taking better care of himself. Her eyebrows had raised as the name left Izaya’s mouth, and it took her several minutes before she was speaking.

“Are you going to open it?” Izaya stared at the notification bar for a little while longer, trying to figure out if it was going to be worth the trouble. _Izaya was still pissed at Shizuo for the moment._ Before he could respond Namie slipped his phone from his grasp and opened the message. He watched her eyes scan over it, and for once, her non-expressive face was a comfort.

“I wouldn’t know if this would be considered good or bad news to you—but I think it may be beneficial for you to look at it.” Izaya wanted to reach for the phone, wanted to know what Shizuo had to say, and then just _couldn’t._ He couldn’t do it while he was still angry with Shizuo about the club. He shook his head, and Namie sent him an odd glance. After a moment, she pursed her lips just before handing the device back over. Izaya slipped it into his pocket to be forgotten about for the time being, and he redirected Namie towards the topic of Shiki. They finished an entire pot of tea—and Izaya learned a little more about Shiki than he had ever really wanted to—before Namie left, however she left looking a lot happier than Izaya had ever seen her. He felt as though he hadn’t appreciated her properly. She was a royal pain, and a _terrible_ cook, only slightly better than Izaya himself—but he found that her companionship in the last year or so was needed. _She was an ugly person, but she had her moments._

Izaya spent a week obsessing over the message he had received from Shizuo, obsessing over his revelation over the identity of _Atsu, obsessing in general._ He had eaten more out of _stress_ in the last week than he probably had in the last _year._ He hadn’t necessarily gained much weight because of it, but there was less definition to Izaya’s ribs now, and he felt a little better about himself. After a week Izaya thought it might be safe to look at the message. He wasn’t _angry_ anymore, just confused, and a little hurt. _Shizuo had—touched him._ Shizuo had touched him knowingly, had went to the club in the hopes of catching Izaya again, and apparently, had dyed his hair for the excursion. _Izaya wondered if it would still be brunet or if he would have bleached already._ Izaya sort of wanted to see Shizuo clearly with his natural brunet, but Izaya was also very partial to the _gold._ It caught the sunlight right, it was soft as dandelion down, and Izaya thought that it might not keep that quality if the color changed permanently. After another few anxious minutes of staring at the dark screen of his phone, Izaya snatch it into his grip and opened his messages, clicking on the one from _Atsushi._

_I know it’s out of the blue—and I don’t really have a right to ask you, but I want to see you. I need to see you. Can we meet?_

Izaya stared at the words on the screen and felt pressure build in his chest. _Shizuo wanted—needed—to see him?_ Izaya could imagine the feeling, four years of wanting _nothing_ but Shizuo after his colossal mistake had yielded a deep desire to see him. Izaya wanted to respond— _wanted and deserved answers—_ to reply that he would meet with Shizuo— _and couldn’t._ His fingers stalled over the screen, ready to send a message back, and then they lifted away until Izaya had put the device back on the coffee table. _He couldn’t look at Shizuo just this minute._ If he responded now he would come up with a million and one reasons to bail, because as much as he _wanted_ Shizuo back in his life, wanted him at his side where he _belonged—_ and Izaya right at Shizuo’s where _he_ belonged— _he just couldn’t right now._

As the day went by, Izaya unwittingly generated a plan to guarantee that Shizuo came back. He had done a little work, sent Namie on a few errands, and found his phone back in his hand, this time a message typed out and his finger hovering over the send button.

_No. I don’t want to see you. I’ve met someone else, he promised we would see each other again, and we’re meeting at the usual place tonight. I’m trying to move on Shizuo—you should too._

Izaya stared at the words for several minutes, trying to figure out if that was discreet enough that Shizuo wouldn’t be able to tell that Izaya knew his dirty little secret. _One more time._ Izaya wanted to feel the rush of _Atsu_ one more time. Shizuo had touched him the way he had at the beginning of their relationship. _Possessive._ Shizuo had eased back on the breath play, on the roughness, in favor of tender love. _Izaya had liked it more than he would admit._ Izaya liked it when Shizuo was gentle with him, but he liked the sting more than anything else, and at the moment, Shizuo was giving it to him. _He hit send and left to get ready._

Izaya decided to be more provocative this evening, hoping to rile Shizuo up a little bit before slipping away with him, _hopefully somewhere comfortable,_ to screw his brains out. Izaya wouldn’t be _opposed_ to fucking in the bathroom again, or in an equally dark corner with nothing but Shizuo’s strength to pin him to the wall, but he wanted to lie down with him. Wanted to take their time. Izaya wasn’t entirely sure Shizuo had figured out the message, but the moment Izaya had gotten to the club, _he could sense him._ Izaya had ignored the spark in his spine the last few times, hadn’t been thinking about it, but now that he was _trying_ to find Shizuo in the mass of writhing bodies, he could feel his presence easily. _Warm, possessive, **his**._ Izaya slipped through the crowd, having decided to leave his hair _down_ this time. It might have been harder to see him, to recognize him, but Izaya was going to keep the faith as he stepped up to the bar. The tender from before was there, and he offered Izaya a smile.

“You’re back. I think I spotted that brunet in here, tall, kind of broody right? Looks like he did dye his hair for you, it’s still brown.” He poured Izaya a whiskey, and he drank it quickly as he asked if he had seen where he had slipped away. When he shook his head, Izaya put a few bills on the counter to pay for the drink, and then slipped into the throng of bodies, hoping that if he made himself easily accessible, he’d tempt Shizuo out of hiding. It didn’t take long, and Izaya was almost disappointed. He had danced with a few people before a warm body pressed against him from behind, hands slipping around him to grab for his ribcage and his throat, and he knew _instantly_ that Shizuo had found him. _It took Izaya a moment longer to realize that the ring he had spotted and felt was his. Shizuo was wearing it._ On the wrong hand, but he was wearing it, which meant he hadn’t thrown them away. Before Izaya could say anything as he pressed himself into Shizuo’s grip more firmly, a hot breath blew over his jaw and a nose was pushing away the curtain of his hair until lips pressed against his ear.

 _“You left your hair down Yuki—looks good like this.”_ Izaya sighed as that tainted growl hit his ears, and now that he was paying more attention, he could tell easily that it was Shizuo. He had deepened his voice, had added a twang to his Japanese until it passed for a bastardized American version—but it was undoubtedly Shizuo. Izaya reached a hand backwards until he could curl his fingers in his hair and sigh at the quality. _Soft as always._

“I thought you might like it this way Atsu—I’ve been coming back again and again and you haven’t _been_ here. Why haven’t you been here, _I’ve missed you.”_ Shizuo pressed a few kisses against Izaya’s jaw, pressed his hips a little more insistently against Izaya and used his grip on him to pull him tight against him, flush, back to chest, groin to ass, _Izaya was in heaven._

“Well you know what they say Yuki— _absence makes the heart grow fonder_. I’ve been busy, but not a moment has gone by that I haven’t thought about being here with you.” Izaya hummed as Shizuo’s hands shifted across his body, caressing him, fingers teasing at his sensitive spots, and Izaya was starting to realize that Shizuo really hadn’t made it difficult for him to figure out it was him. He was touching like he always had, easing up when Izaya needed it, grabbing harder when he wanted, kissing at him just right, sucking at his skin in a familiar way. _All of it was Shizuo._ Izaya was tempted to blow his cover now, let him know that he _knew_ it was him, but he wanted _Atsu_ one last time. Wanted Shizuo rough and possessive because even though it was _him_ touching him, Izaya could feel the anger below the surface. _Izaya desired his persona rather than him._ He didn’t want to dissuade Shizuo from that thought just yet. He was hoping for Shizuo to be rougher than the last time, wanted to see bruises coating his body in the morning. _Wanted to wake up beside him._ Izaya rolled his hips in a slow circle against the rhythm of the music before Shizuo thought to direct him, and he adored the groan that hit his ears. Izaya used the grip in Shizuo’s hair to pull him down closer, make sure he’d hear his next request loud and clear.

“I don’t want to pussyfoot it this time— _I want you Atsu._ Take me somewhere, take me somewhere and fuck me— _I **need** it. _Need you cock in me again, need your hand around my throat. I want bruises this time, _want to remember you when you disappear again.”_ He earned a sharp nip and a short pause in their grinding before his wrist was being grabbed roughly and he was dragged through the crowd— _away from the bathroom._ Izaya wasn’t normally into such _blatant_ exhibitionism, but the idea of Shizuo fucking him hard, fast, and _dirty_ where anyone could stumble upon them heightened the arousal running rampant through his veins. _Ever since Shizuo had jerked him to completion on the dancefloor he craved the idea of being captured in such a compromising situation._ Shizuo picked an especially dark corner, and he dragged Izaya closer until he could press him face first into the wall and slide up behind him. Izaya protested immediately.

 _“No—_ I want to face you this time, you’ll get deeper if we do it that way, _want you deep.”_ Izaya heard a bitten curse leave his mouth, and then lips were pressed tight against his ear as Shizuo made him _swear_ to close his eyes until it was over, until he could slip around him out of sight. Izaya nodded his head and made the verbal oath— _I swear I won’t look—_ and then he was being spun around and soft lips were pressing to his as hands dropped to open his jeans. _He had forgone underwear this time too._ Shizuo groaned when his fingers skimmed bare skin, teeth nipped harshly at his bottom lip, and then Izaya was being spun around again to face the wall, bent over as his jeans were pulled down to his ankles just before he received a sharp swat to his ass. Izaya jerked against the touch before moaning and pushing his hips back, hoping for another.

 _“You said Atsu would reward or punish you depending on his mood. I think I rewarded you last time. Now you’ll take a punishment Yuki.”_ Izaya swallowed his whimpers as he received a _thorough_ spanking. Shizuo was being rougher with him, hand coming down _hard_ on both cheeks, waiting more than just a swat or two before he soothed the sting. Izaya knew his ass would be red and sore and so supremely sensitive that when Shizuo pulled his cock out, just enough to be able to stick it in him, the drag of his pants against Izaya’s skin would be a blessing _and_ a curse. Shizuo spanked him for much longer than he ever had, and Izaya wondered if it was partially because he had refused to meet with him. _He wasn’t about to complain though._ Izaya himself could feel the heat radiating off his abused bottom when Shizuo finally stopped. His hands were rubbing soothingly against the irritated skin, and Izaya let a few soft sounds leave his throat as those hands drifted upwards underneath his shirt to tease at his nipples gently. _Soothing. Shizuo was perfect right now._ He was petting him softly, and then there were gentle kisses pressed to his shoulder just before he was speaking again.

“You did so well Yuki— _so well. Bet you’re sensitive now—feel good?”_ Izaya nodded his head rapidly and pressed backwards to get a taste of that drag of fabric against his skin. He moaned weakly, and then Shizuo was speaking again, a dark promise hidden in his words that Izaya was too blissed out to understand at the moment. He was slipping into subspace, he could feel himself beginning to float in the attention, in the moment, and he wanted desperately to reach that place. He hadn’t been there in four years.

 _“You shower tonight Yuki, you nice and clean for me?”_ Izaya nodded his head again, unable to verbalize his response to the question as he floated further away, as Shizuo continued to tease at his sore skin. Then the breath against his neck was disappearing and the hands touching him were spreading his cheeks just before a slick tongue pressed against him. _Oh fuck._ Shizuo hadn’t rimmed him in a _long_ time. He normally only did it when it was asked for, and as pleasurable as it was, Izaya _had_ to be in the mood for it because Shizuo was fucking _mean_ about it. He was the most impatient person Izaya had ever met, unless he was cooking, or eating Izaya out. He had the patience of a fucking _Saint_ when he decided to tongue Izaya open, and he hoped that this experience would be no different. Izaya wanted the frustration, to ride the edge of orgasm just long enough to feel it coil tight before Shizuo backed off. _He wanted the edge play and the breath play._ He wanted it all, wanted Shizuo to fall back into that roll. _He wanted deeply for Shizuo to abuse him and then love him._

Izaya wouldn’t have been able to guess how long Shizuo fucked his tongue into him, licking thoroughly to slick the way before his fingers came into play to pry him open the rest of the way. _Izaya didn’t want to use condoms._ He was slipping away from himself, knew that Shizuo was going to have to take control soon because he wouldn’t have _any_ sense left, but he needed to voice that desire before he lost his mind. He wanted to feel Shizuo’s slick slide out of him afterwards like it always had. Wanted to feel the mark of Shizuo inside his body like the promise it always had been. _I’m yours, and you’re mine._ Izaya pushed back against the fingers inside him, and after another moment those fingers pulled away. Izaya gasped at the loss of friction, but then Shizuo was pulling the fabric of one of his pant legs over his shoe and he was being turned around. Izaya felt boneless already, but he followed the direction, and was then hoisted into the air and pressed firmly against the wall until Shizuo stepped into him, allowing Izaya to curl his limbs around the strength of his body. _He kept his eyes closed as he had been asked to._ He could feel the press of Shizuo’s cock against his ass— _naked and clean—_ and found his tongue as one of Shizuo’s hands abandoned his body. _Looking for a condom._

“No—no, I don’t want one this time. _I want to feel you.”_ Izaya pressed his face against Shizuo’s throat and offered a sloppy kiss to the skin. He felt Shizuo’s breath stutter, and the hand still holding onto him tightened a fraction. He worried that Shizuo might ask if he was _sure,_ because Izaya would respond the way he always did when asked that question. _Please don’t ask, just do._ But then he could feel the press of the head of Shizuo’s cock against his entrance and he pushed against it, wanting him inside him _fucking four years ago._ A single slow stroke of his hips had him seated deeply inside the clutch of Izaya’s body, sitting right against his prostate just like he _always_ had, and his grip shifted until Shizuo could wrap a hand around his throat. He added just enough pressure for Izaya’s airflow to cut itself off, and Izaya surged against him, hips raising until he slipped out a fraction, only for Izaya to relax and have him dip back inside all the way. _It was so good._

Shizuo picked a hard pace as he fucked Izaya against the wall, his hand working periodically to choke Izaya just enough to feel lightheaded before he backed off, his skin slapping against Izaya’s and the drag of fabric against his abused ass got him the rest of the way there. Izaya came hard, his cock pulsing the entire way through as Shizuo continued to plunge into his body. He had curled himself into Izaya, his breath hitting Izaya’s cheek in short pants as moans leaked from his mouth. Izaya lost himself completely, his sense flying out the window as he hit subspace hard. He was thrown into it, and he felt incoherent as he floated in the sensation of Shizuo fucking him like an animal. Izaya almost regretted his choice of facing Shizuo, because the punishment would have been so sweet if Shizuo had fucked him from behind, but this, this was absolutely _perfect._ Izaya kissed blindly at whatever his mouth could reach until the hand around his throat eased away and Shizuo’s mouth dropped to his. Fingers plucked unforgivingly at his nipples, and Izaya felt another orgasm wash over him in a fraction of the time the last one took. Shizuo fucked him through it, and then let his hips snap harder when the aftershocks passed.

Izaya was thoroughly fucked out—he couldn’t have counted the number or orgasms he experienced by the end of it, just that the number had been high—by the time Shizuo spilled inside him, pressing impossibly deep as he mouthed and sucked at Izaya’s pulse point. _Shizuo had always liked that spot, liked the way Izaya’s heart beat against his tongue loud and clear._ Shizuo stayed inside him for a while afterwards as he smoothed his hands down Izaya’s skin. He was brought back to himself slowly, carefully pulled away from the subspace until Shizuo’s breath and hands against him was more than just sensation, until it was concrete and Izaya was conscious of how sore his body was. _He felt good._ Izaya hadn’t felt this good in ages. He leant forward to press his mouth against Shizuo’s as his breathing evened out, and then he was slowly being set on his feet as Shizuo’s cock slipped from his body. He would mourn the loss of connection for the moment, but he was sure that he could convince Shizuo home with him now. He would _probably_ be gone by the morning, but Izaya hoped he would stay. _He didn’t want to give the game away just yet._ Izaya righted his clothes, and as he finished Shizuo stepped around him to press solidly against his back. Izaya let a small moan leave him, and the hands that perched themselves on his hips tightened.

“Are you ready Yuki?”

 _“No._ Come home with me. I want to take you home with me this time, I don’t want it to stop here. I don’t know when you’ll come back again.” Shizuo let out a disapproving hum, and the beginnings of a protest hit Izaya’s ear, and then uncertainty was leaking into Shizuo’s assumed voice.

“You’d have to look at me Yuki. I doubt you could keep your eyes closed, and there’s probably a lot more light in your apartment. _Not as easy to pretend I’m Atsu there as it is here.”_

 _“I don’t want to pretend._ I want you. Tell me your name, I want to know it.” Izaya shifted, trying to turn around again so he could catch sight of Shizuo’s face. The hands on his body refused the movement, keeping him firmly in place. Izaya whined and pressed back against Shizuo— _against the bulge in his pants._ Shizuo was obviously still horny, obviously still wanted Izaya, wanted to fuck him again already— _Izaya wanted that too—_ but he was reluctant. Izaya needed to offer more incentive, needed to sell himself to Shizuo to ensure his own happiness at the moment. Then Shizuo was wrapping a hand over his eyes and his lips were pressing to his ear again.

 _“Close your eyes and count to ten Yuki. I’ll be back, I promise. Tomorrow, meet me exactly where I found you tonight. I’ll give you everything you want then. I’ll let you look if that’s what you really want.”_ Izaya didn’t want a consolation prize. He wanted Shizuo in his bed tonight, wanted to take him home and be so _wrecked_ tonight that he wouldn’t be able to feel his legs tomorrow. He wanted Shizuo to run him a hot bath and soak with him until the ache in his bones went away, and then make him breakfast, and then fuck him again—slow and gentle—before napping, bodies more intimately entwined in sleep than during the sex. Shizuo’s voice had left no room for argument though, and after another tense moment of Izaya’s emotions running rampant in his chest, he decided that waiting _one_ more day wouldn’t kill him. He had waited four years, _one more day wouldn’t be the end of the world._ Izaya nodded his head once, was rewarded with a deep kiss, Shizuo’s tongue reaching further until it _scorched_ Izaya, and then he was stepping away from him. Izaya left after getting himself one more drink, needing it to cool the fire in his veins. He was tempted to go by Shizuo’s apartment, tell him that he _knew,_ and then decided he would let Shizuo sweat. _He promised to be back tomorrow._ Izaya would have roughly twenty-four hours to figure out how he was going to fuck with Shizuo, how he was going to make him pay for the deception. Izaya really wasn’t angry anymore, just confused—but he supposed he understood why Shizuo had done it in the first place. _Izaya would have done it too._

The next day Izaya made sure to clean himself thoroughly again, though he loathed the feeling of washing away the evidence of Shizuo having been inside him again. He cleaned up, brushed his hair, tried to figure out if Shizuo had preferred it up or down, and then left it down. He had commented on it, and Izaya had liked the way his hair shifted against his own skin while Shizuo pounded him. He picked something less revealing from his new wardrobe, choosing a color he knew Shizuo liked on him— _he liked him in pink—_ and then checked himself one more time before slipping out of his apartment.

Izaya grabbed a drink at the bar and then stepped onto the floor to find a partner until Shizuo located him. A few hours passed, and Izaya stepped away to cool down some, get another drink, and scan the crowd for a flash of gold. He _hoped_ Shizuo had used some sort of temporary dye in his hair. He wanted to see Shizuo’s natural color, but the gold was so striking, so _him,_ that Izaya would be sad to see it gone. When he didn’t catch sight of him, he check his phone to see that he had shown up rather early. Shizuo had descended on him both times late in the evening. Izaya chatted idly with a few people at the bar that had recognized him from his frequent visits, and he partied with them for a little while, his drinks added to their tab. As the clock ticked down the minutes Izaya stepped away, thanked them for a good time, and shifted off to find a partner, hoping to rev Shizuo’s engine with a little teasing.

Midnight hit and Izaya had yet to see or _sense_ Shizuo. He wondered what was going on, why Shizuo was backing out now. He sat back down at the bar, tapped his fingers on the bar-top as he nursed a drink, trying to figure out _why._ Izaya checked his phone and stared at the two messages between him and Shizuo. _Maybe he should have just gone to see him._ Izaya thought that might have been the better option, and he figured he would just go by there now if Shizuo really wasn’t going to show up like he had _promised._ He supposed it wasn’t really binding when Shizuo thought he was still anonymous. Izaya slammed back the rest of his drink and settled his tab before shifting through the bodies dancing to get to the door. _Apparently, the liquor screwed with his Shizuo sense._ A hand lashed out from nowhere, belonging to no one, and grabbed for his wrist, tugging him into a firm body and forced to move with the music. Izaya sighed and thought that he _had_ promised to meet him on the dancefloor. Breath tickled his neck and Izaya tilted his head to offer access.

 _“Do you still want to know who I am?”_ Lips pressed there after the words vibrated against his pulse and Izaya shook his head. The hands on his hips tightened and pulled him more firmly against him.

 _“Then I’m still Atsu?”_ It took Izaya a moment to respond to that question. Izaya knew he wanted Shizuo, was absolutely positive that he was the _only_ person he had ever wanted, but at the moment of truth he was hesitating. He felt worry curl in his stomach, thick and heavy. _I can’t look at him._ The thought hit Izaya hard, and he felt himself stop moving. Shizuo paused as well, the hands on his hips shifting until they were wrapped around him comfortingly, fingers curling into his ribs and hugging his throat. _Shizuo hadn’t held him like this often but it was so comfortable. **Possessive**. _Izaya shook his head a few times, and then a soft mouth was pressing against his ear.

 _“What do you want then?”_ Izaya hesitated a moment longer, relishing in the grip he was in, soaking up the comfort, because he knew he was about to make another stupid choice. He was going to make yet another bad decision, and he was _probably_ going to regret it—but a part of him also said he needed to do this. _Shizuo had deceived him._ He wasn’t angry about it, wasn’t hurt either, but he also knew that he couldn’t let Shizuo get away with it scot free. Izaya cleared his mind of the clutter and relaxed into Shizuo’s hold, allowing his body to support the majority of Izaya’s weight.

 _“I want you to stop pretending I’m stupid Shizuo.”_ Shizuo’s body locked up, though the hand around Izaya’s throat remained relaxed. Izaya could feel the panic, and he moved to step forward, and Shizuo’s hands fell away from his body without a fight. He would have turned, to flash defiant eyes at him and goad him into a fight, make him chase, make him hungry for the fuck they’d have afterwards with the adrenaline still coursing through them— _but he still couldn’t look at Shizuo._ He was afraid of turning around, and seeing someone he didn’t recognize in the dark atmosphere of the club. Izaya took a breath, and hoped that his voice would be able to carry to Shizuo’s ears. _Yeah, he was going to regret this._

 _“You should have just told me it was you.”_ Izaya stepped away then, half hoping Shizuo would let him leave, because honestly, _Izaya had enough of the games._ He had planned out this grand scheme to get Shizuo back, but the moment he had a chance to execute it, he had bailed. _He’d changed._ Four years without Shizuo had changed him, and Izaya wondered if he was even the same person, if Shizuo would even like what was there. _If Izaya would like what he found in Shizuo._ Izaya wasn’t pursued, and he made it home just fine, feeling a little more than empty. He felt wrung out, stretched thin, and like his mind was fraying like old fabric. He felt a little ill, and his body ached suddenly. He decided that another shower was in order to soothe himself, and would provide him with time to figure out what his next move would be. He wanted to attack the problem head on. _He would go and see Shizuo tomorrow._ He wanted to clear up the incidents in the club, wanted to know what Shizuo had been thinking the first time it had happened, _and he wanted a little separation._ Izaya thought idly about going out and finding someone to sleep with, to take off the edge of his arousal, and then decided that he couldn’t. _He wouldn’t do that to Shizuo, not when he was planning on asking for him back again._ Izaya slipped into bed feeling strange, more so than usual, and closed his eyes, trying to imagine what Shizuo might say when Izaya kissed him sweet and long.

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, so you know the usual drill. Blah blah blah, promo, blah, blah blah, I don't know what I'm doing, blah blah blah. I'm having a hard time with this series, It's hard guys. Making content is not easy, and I'm trying to develop a lot of plot between the porn. Does anybody really read these notes?
> 
> As usual, leave a kudos, leave a comment, but I always prefer more detailed criticism. 
> 
> Hit me here: sin.menacinc@gmail.com


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